


The Greatest Thing

by writingonpostcards



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anxiety, Background Shitty Knight/Larissa "Lardo" Duan - Freeform, Breaking Up & Making Up, Light Angst, M/M, NHL Player Jack Zimmermann, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-26 01:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21365611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/pseuds/writingonpostcards
Summary: Bitty and Jack meet at a party and hit it off, but when Bitty finds out Jack is Jack Zimmermann, captain of the Providence Falconers, he doubts anything will happen between them. Jack proves him wrong, but the reality of dating an NHL player during playoff season puts pressure on their new relationship.“How’d you even meet that guy?” Shitty asks him.“Um. Oh well, you know how it goes,” Bitty says in what he hopes is a breezy tone. “One minute you’re kissing an attractive guy at a costume party and then a few mornings later you see that same face on the side of a bus, only without the cat ears.”
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 89
Kudos: 498
Collections: OMGCP Big Bang 2019





	1. There Was A Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Another year, another Bang. I'm grateful for this one because it pushed me to finish a fic I started working on over a year ago!
> 
> It wouldn't be a Big Bang without an artist. Thank you [Jitterbit](https://jitterbit.tumblr.com/). Your amazing art is embedded in this fic so everyone can see it. You captured the mood of this fic so well and I have stared at your art so many times because it makes me feel all warm inside. An absolute pleasure. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta, [Silvia](https://notenoughgatorade.tumblr.com/). You know I think you're a star, but you get a special thanks this year for helping me step back and look at the work with fresh eyes, to re-shape it into something much more deserving of and faithful to the characters in it. Thank you.
> 
> Title and chapter titles taken from _Nature Boy_. I have a particular affinity for the [David Bowie/Massive Attack version.](https://open.spotify.com/track/0B0yzKPIFYyqfXUMZIKhNR)

He’s the most attractive man that Bitty has ever seen, bar none. Well maybe bar that one guy who worked as a waiter at Bitty’s favourite restaurant for a few months and then disappeared. But after that guy, he’s the most attractive man Bitty has ever seen.

Tall. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Horrendous fashion sense (which Bitty has tried to deny for years is a quality he likes in a man but it’s of no use).

He had introduced himself as Jack and Bitty had introduced himself as Bitty and they’d got to talking and drinking and dancing far too close and now they’re on to the kissing. It’s a fabulous turn of events considering Bitty wasn’t even sure he was going to come out tonight. When Jack kisses him, Bitty’s body comes alive. When Jack’s tongue presses into Bitty’s lips, his toes tingle. When Jack’s big, strong hands wrap around his hips, Bitty forgets to breathe.

When Bitty loses his balance because of lack of oxygen to his brain from the forgetting-to-breathe, Jack’s hands are there to steady him. He does stop the kissing though, which is a terrible side-effect that Bitty will have to remember to avoid in the future.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks with his beautiful voice and beautiful eyes that show the sincerity of the question.

“Yes, yes I’m...more than okay,” Bitty tells Jack, smiling.

“Me too,” Jack says, before kissing Bitty again.

Bitty makes sure to keep breathing this time.

Jack’s chest is firm beneath Bitty’s palms and he’s pretty certain he can feel actual abs beneath his t-shirt. If they weren’t at a public party he’d be inclined to lift Jack’s shirt to check. He tries to stretch Jack’s t-shirt tight against his torso to see if he can see a six-pack, which is when he instead notices the time on his watch.

“Oh my gosh! It’s so late.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack apologises, immediately. “I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

“Oh, no. No.” Bitty pats Jack’s firm chest to reassure him and also because he’s starting to suspect it might be an eight-pack. “I was enjoying myself.”

“Me too.” Jack’s smile is what one might call ‘disarming’.

Bitty’s heart flutters, but he tries to ignore it or else he’s never letting Jack go.

“I’m sorry. I really have to head home.” Bitty had promised himself no more late nights before work this year.

“Of course.”

Bitty bites his lip and looks at Jack. He doesn’t want this to be the last time he gets to do that. Jack’s eyes are too pretty to be trapped in a memory. Luckily, there are steps he can take to avoid that.

“Annie’s hosts a trivia night every second Tuesday,” Bitty tells Jack. “It’s on next week. Would you like...I mean. I’ll be here.”

“Next Tuesday?” Jack asks.

Bitty nods. “Starts at seven. You should bring some friends."

Jack smiles. It’s a little lopsided but a lot effective. Bitty’s stomach goes up, flips, and drops back down. “I can do that.”

-

Bitty’s been walking with a spring in his step since the other night. Even the horrors of his early morning commute can’t shake the memory of kissing Jack and touching Jack and talking with Jack and just...Jack.

So he thinks it’s his mind playing a trick on him at first. But then he sees it a second time and he can play that off as being really into Jack, but then the third time happens and Bitty has to confront it.

He stands on the sidewalk by the bus stop and stares at it.

“Well shit,” he says out loud. The father beside him with the toddler shoots him a death glare.

“Sorry,” Bitty says, then hides his face behind his coffee cup.

Maybe if he shuts his eyes then looks again? He tries it and the result is still the same.

Jack’s face is on the side of a bus.

Jack’s  _ face  _ is on the side of a  _ bus _ .

There’s a little line at the bottom of the banner; ‘Jack Zimmermann, Captain of the Providence Falconers’.

They had talked so much the other night —or at least equal parts talking and kissing —and Bitty can’t believe this never came up, but it certainly didn’t. He’d remember making out with a sports star.

The bus pulls away at the same time Bitty’s phone starts ringing.

“Hi, Shitty,” Bitty answers after checking the caller ID.

“Hey. Where you at?” Bitty’s co-worker and friend asks. “I thought you were working today?”

“I am,” Bitty confirms. “I just got off the bus. Be there soon.”

“Alrighty. You’re not normally late, is all, and I wanted to check you hadn’t been murdered.”

Bitty checks the time on his watch, tilting his head so not to spill the coffee. Shit. Had he really stared at the ad for that long?

“Oh my god! I am so sorry,” Bitty apologises, starting to speed-walk. “I’m hurrying. I’ll be there soon.”

“It’s all good. It’s slow at the moment, and Robards isn’t in yet.”

“Thank goodness.”

-

Bitty’s flustered when he gets in to work. He unloads his bag in the staff room and joins Shitty at the main desk in the library, sliding in through the gap between the large semi-circle desk and the wall.

“Woah. Bitty.” Shitty’s eyes widen, taking in Bitty’s harsh breathing and hair in disarray; a very unusual look for him.

“I know,” Bitty replies.

“I did tell you it was slow, right?” Shitty waves a paperback in his direction. “You didn’t need to rush in.”

“I felt bad.” Bitty picks up a flyer for their book club night from the display on the counter and starts fanning himself with it.

“Well now that you’re here, I’m going to go do some reshelving.”

“Sounds good. I’m gonna-” Bitty keeps fanning himself and gestures to his chair.

“All good, my man.”

Shitty wheels their return trolley away into the stacks and Bitty collapses inelegantly onto his chair. He rolls it across to his computer and launches Google, checking no-one is around before he types in ‘Jack Zimmermann’ and hits enter.

Bitty clicks over to the image page first just to be 100% certain. There’s no denying it. The Jack he was making out with at Annie’s is definitely Jack Zimmermann.

Feeling shady enough with just that small search, Bitty closes the window and leans back in his chair.

“So that’s…a thing. I made out with Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty says aloud to himself. He rolls the flyer up in his hands and whacks it on his thigh, brain immediately questioning everything from that night and what it meant to him and what it meant to Jack. He does not come to an optimistic conclusion about what Jack Zimmermann was looking for from a night out at a costume party.

“It’s not the end of the world,” he tells himself, nodding. “He’s just...and you’re just... So it’s probably -” Bitty groans and rubs at his forehead. “Nothing. It’s probably nothing.”

Jack’s a famous athlete making millions of dollars and Bitty works in a library. There’s no way Jack will want to pursue something with Bitty, because that’s not how reality works. He’s probably going to meet some other athlete at some gala dinner and Bitty will be left lonely in his big bed again. He knew he shouldn’t have splashed out and bought that when he got his raise.

-

Bitty sees Jack another two times on various adverts around the city —which really drives home the idea that Jack exists in a world far separate from Bitty’s own —before he sees him in the flesh again. Bitty is not prepared. Trivia isn’t for another few nights and Bitty’s still in the process of psyching himself up for it.

Bitty is at peak ‘end-of-the-week’ look —bags under his eyes and hair due for a wash —when Jack walks into the library where Bitty works.

Bitty ducks under the desk so fast he gets a head rush.

“Um…” Shitty looks down to where Bitty has squashed himself against the rounded wall of the desk, out of sight. “What’s going on?”

Bitty shrugs. “Nothing. Just felt like sitting down.”

“Okay. I can respect.” Shitty nods. “But, uh...” he gently pushes Bitty’s chair over to him.

Bitty eyes it. “The ground’s good.”

“Are you hiding?”

Bitty bites his lip.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” Shitty looks out from the desk across the library. “Who from?”

Bitty has an answer, it just needs a lot of backstory to make sense. Backstory which he has not told Shitty.

“A guy,” he hedges instead.

“Because?”

Bitty screws his eyes shut, hoping to turn invisible. “Reasons.”

“Do I know them?”

“Of them,” Bitty admits reluctantly.

“ _ Of _ them?” Shitty repeats.

“Yes.” Bitty peeks up at Shitty. He’s still looking out across the library.

“So I should be able to spot them now?”

Bitty wishes Shitty is as terrible as he was that night at putting a name to the face. It’s futile. It’s like a mild superpower of Shitty’s to remember names and faces. If Bitty had it, he wouldn’t be crouching under the desk, weighed down with embarrassment.

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” Shitty narrates above him. “I’m not seeing anyone that I-” He cuts off.

Bitty opens an eye to see what’s going on.

Shitty’s jaw has dropped. “Brah,” he says emphatically. “That’s  _ Jack Zimmermann _ .”

Bitty presses his head against the front wall of the desk under the counter. Shitty wheels his chair over to Bitty.

“You’re hiding from _ Jack Zimmermann _ ?” Shitty whispers, eyes wide.

Bitty mimes for Shitty to keep his voice down. It’s futile as Shitty is still staring across the room, probably at the aforementioned Mr. Zimmermann.

“Bits. That’s a hockey legend _ . _ His  _ ass  _ is famous. Youngest captain ever of an NHL team, he’s won the Art Ross -”

“ _ I know all of this now _ ,” Bitty hisses, trying to shut Shitty up.

“Wait?” Shitty drops his head to look at him. “You know  _ now _ ? You didn’t know that earlier?”

“Well, I mean-” Shitty raises his eyebrows. “Fine. No. But then I saw his face on an ad on the bus and that cleared up some things.”

“Oh, wait. I’m having a brainwave. Is  _ that  _ why you turned down those tickets to the Falconers fundraiser game the other week?” Shitty asks.

“No, actually. And stop looking down here. I’m trying to be incognito.”

Shitty lifts his head back up but keeps their conversation going. “How’d you even meet that guy?”

“Um. Oh well, you know how it goes,” Bitty says in what he hopes is a breezy tone. “One minute you’re kissing an attractive guy at a costume party and then a few mornings later you see that same face on a bus, only without the cat ears.”

Shitty emits a strangled gasp and abandons his chair to drop down beside Bitty.

“What are you doing?!” Bitty demands.

“There is so much to unpack in that sentence,” Shitty replies. “This was last week and you haven’t told me a single thing?”

“You’ve been caught up with wedding prep,” Bitty points out, hoping to shift him to that topic.

“There is  _ always  _ time to hear about sex-capades.”

Bitty shudders. “Really? We’re going with that phrase?”

“And why is it that you’re hiding?” Shitty glosses over the comment. “Did he say something. Did  _ you  _ say something? What happened?”

Shitty’s interrogation is interrupted by someone ding-ing the old-fashioned bell on the counter.

Bitty cocks his head sharply to Shitty.

Shitty shakes his head back.

_ What if it’s Jack _ , Bitty mouths.

Shitty’s thumbs-up followed by a cruder gesture is not appreciated.

“Uh, hello? Is someone there?”

Bitty’s head swivels to look up at the underside of the counter. He doesn’t need x-ray vision to know who’s standing there.

Shitty tugs on his sleeve.  _ Jack _ , he mouths.

Bitty nods.

There’s a minor tussle as Shitty tries to force Bitty up and Bitty holds on for dear life to the dividers under the desk until he accidentally kicks Shitty’s desk chair and alerts Jack to their presence.

“Please,” Bitty whispers. “I’ll do the cake for the rehearsal dinner.”

Shitty narrows his eyes. “Three-layer minimum,” Shitty barters quickly.

Bitty shakes his head. “Two.”

“Done.” Shitty springs up while Bitty stays crouched beneath the table.

“Hi. Sorry ‘bout that. Dropped a pen.” Bitty would roll his eyes were he not concentrating so hard on not making a sound. “What can I do you for?”

“I’m trying to find a cookbook by Margaret Fulton. It’s on the system but there’s no number next to it.”

Bitty blinks. He knows that book, and he’s certain he knows how Jack heard of it.

“Ah, sorry about that. We’re upgrading the system and there’s been some bugs,” Shitty apologises. “Anyway. Cooking isn’t  _ my  _ area of expertise.” Shitty nudges Bitty with his foot. Bitty slaps it back. “But let me come round and help. It should be in 642.”

Bitty pinches Shitty’s calf, then holds up his fingers for 6-4-1.

“641. I’ll show you.”

Bitty holds his breath until he can hear Shitty’s voice disappearing into the stacks. He then very calmly goes on his lunch break.

-

After his close encounter with Jack at the library, Tuesday comes around far too quickly and Bitty's still not sure if he even wants to go to the trivia night. He's made peace with the fact that he and Jack live in separate worlds —though apparently not so separate that Jack doesn’t frequent the library that Bitty works at —and the possibility of something between them is zero. Well, he's started to make peace. It would probably be easier if he hadn't signed up for Falconers alerts on his Twitter and Instagram.

He goes back and forth on the benefits of staying home and not having his fears of Jack's rejection confirmed, acknowledging that since he asked Jack he's obliged to be there even as just friends, and hoping that if he does go Jack will confess he has feelings for Bitty.

He contemplates calling Shitty but can already predict what he'll say and while it would be lovely to hear Shitty's confidence in him, Bitty is trying to be realistic for once in his romantic life.

Bitty groans and pulls himself off the couch he'd stalled on as he was going to leave.

"What are you doing? You already know what this is." Bitty moves around the room re-grabbing his stuff. "You invited him tonight so you have to go but you'll make it clear to him you're not expecting anything and that'll be that. Goodbye, Jack."

Bitty ignores the clench of his heart at the thought.

Of course, by the time he's thought through it all and talked himself out of and then back into seeing Jack, Bitty has completely missed the actual trivia.

He peeks in through the window at Annie’s when he gets there, trying to spot Jack. He knows he'll get drawn into conversation if he steps inside and he's a man with one particular mission tonight. He's already derailed himself with all his doubting and second guessing.

He spots Jack easily because his eyes seem to have developed a magnetism toward him after just one night. Bitty's relieved Jack seems to be at a table with people he knows. Judging from their size and manner of dress, also hockey players.

The door to Annie's opens then and Bitty ducks around into the nearby alleyway, trying to avoid being seen as everyone leaves. He listens out as people spill onto the sidewalk, conversations drifting into the night air. It’s a good few minutes before a certain voice pulls him out of hiding.

When Bitty steps out of the alley, Jack's there watching some guys get into a car and drive away. Bitty wonders why he doesn't go with them. His romantic heart wonders if it's because Jack is waiting for him to show still, but he probably just lives close and is walking home.

Bitty fixes his hair in the side mirror of a parked car then steps up to Jack.

“Jack.”

Jack spins around, caught unaware. A smile spreads slowly across his face. He's genuinely happy to see Bitty. It makes Bitty feel bad for avoiding him the other day in the library.

“Bitty.” Jack walks over to him. “You did come.”

“I did. I'm sorry I missed the trivia.”

“That doesn't—it's fine.” Jack comes to a stop in front of Bitty. “We won anyway.”

“Oh.”

“Not that I wouldn't have liked to have you there,” Jack rushes to say. “Winning wasn't why I came here tonight.”

“It wasn’t, was it?” Bitty’s tone comes out husky. He didn't mean to come on so strong with the flirting. In fact, he’s meant to be doing the opposite—let Jack know it’s cool that there’s not a future for them (even though it’s anything but). There’s something in Jack's eyes and his smile and his hair that brings out the flirt in Bitty.

Jack steps in and Bitty has to tilt his head to look into his eyes.

“It wasn't.” Jack says. “I wanted to see you again.” He delivers it not like a line, but as an earnest statement of fact. Bitty swoons.

“Here I am.”

Jack hums. It becomes clear that he's going to kiss Bitty. Bitty does the selfish thing and lets him before he remembers himself and pulls back.

“Wait. I was going to tell you why I almost didn't come.”

Bitty keeps his hands pressed to Jack's hard chest. He's not a martyr.

“Alright.” Jack's hands flex on Bitty’s hips, sending sparks up his spine.

“I had a really great time the night we met.” Jack grins and Bitty has to look away so he can continue. “And I wanted to see you again. Obviously, because I told you I'd be here. Anyway. So it's not, I mean, well I didn't know that—So when I asked and—Wow.” Bitty interrupts himself. “I'm not doing this well.”

“Take your time,” Jack offers politely.

Bitty clears his throat. “I saw your face on an ad on the bus.”

Jack groans. “Was it that TAG Heuer ad? That one's terrible.”

“No, it was the Montblonc one. But, actually, hold up,” Bitty says, holding his hands up and stepping back. Jack’s hands drop off his hips. “You don't care that I know? That you’re... _ you _ ?”

“You mean  _ Jack Zimmermann _ ?” Jack questions.

Bitty shrugs and nods at once which feels awkward and probably looks worse.

“Of course I don’t care. I would have told you anyway.” Jack smiles and lifts his hands onto Bitty’s hips again. Bitty’s skin tingles.

“Plus, this way?” Jack continues. “I get to skip the part where I'm awkward about telling you about it.”

“And you don't care that I didn't know the other night?” Bitty checks. It’s hard to get the sentence out because half his brain is so distracted that Jack’s fingers are running along the hem of his pants.

Jack shakes his head, still smiling.

“Really? Because I was getting all worried you didn't want me to know you were Jack Zimmermann.”

Jack laughs. “I  _ am  _ Jack Zimmermann. And I can assure you that I very much want you to know.”

Bitty nods slowly, needing to process Jack’s reaction, or non-reaction. He’s totally calm about it and Bitty instead is the one who has been worked up and worried for the past week. He’s realising he may have jumped to an incorrect conclusion.

There’s a wooden bench two stores down from Annie’s. Bitty makes his way over to it to give himself some breathing room away from Jack’s hands.

“I feel like I misjudged a lot of what happened that night,” Bitty says as Jack sits beside him.

Jack tilts his head. “How so?”

“Well, it's —I -” Bitty sighs. “This is going to sound really horrible now.”

“I'm sure I've heard worse on the ice.”

“Okay. Okay. But if this  _ does  _ offend you, it’s fine if you don't want to talk to me anymore.”

Jack nods. “Unlikely, but go on.”

Bitty looks away from Jack, down to the pavement. “When I found out who you were, I assumed we were kinda like a one night thing. Because the fame and the money and the good looks. I assumed it didn’t mean that much to you.”

“You think I'm good looking?” Jack asks.

Bitty lifts his eyes and sees that Jack's humouring him.

Bitty narrows his eyes. “They put your face on buses.”

“Yours is bus-worthy also,” Jack jokes before turning serious. He bumps his pinky finger against Bitty's on the bench. “It did mean something to me.”

“Me too,” Bitty replies simply, not wanting to mince words.

“Bitty?” Jack angles his body in to Bitty’s. He slips his hand over the top of Bitty’s and the heat rushes all the way from Bitty’s fingers to his cheeks. “The truth is, I came here tonight because you said you'd be here and I wanted to ask you out.”

Bitty's stomach flips. “Oh. Well. Okay.”

“Okay.” Jack smiles, slow and gentle. “Would you like to go out with me?”

Bitty takes a breath and nods firmly. “Yes.”

“Even though I'm a famous and wealthy hockey player with an ass that won't quit?” Jack’s eyes twinkle playfully.

Bitty pokes Jack’s arm. “I did not say that last part.”

“But you were thinking it, eh?”

Bitty feels his cheeks heat even more. He kinda was.


	2. We Spoke of Many Things

“What do you wear to a first date with a guy you’ve already hooked up with?” Bitty half-yells at Lardo, his friend and Shitty’s fiancé, down the phone.

He feels like half of his wardrobe —okay, like three-quarters of it —is spread across the floor of his room and on his bed. Which is saying a lot. He really likes buying clothes.

“Your date with Jack is tonight?” Lardo asks him.

“Yes! And I have too many options and I can’t decide.” Bitty throws another pair of jeans to the floor. “My usual first date outfits all feel wrong.” Plus, are out of style because it’s been a while since Bitty’s been on a date.

“Well, where are you going?” Lardo asks.

Bitty grabs a dark blue shirt from his wardrobe. “That new Thai restaurant that opened near the cinema.”

“Right. So kind of fancy, then.”

“Yes.” Bitty throws the blue shirt over his shoulder and picks out a bottle-green one instead, holding it against himself in the mirror.

“Dark jeans and a button-up shirt? With one of your bowties?” Lardo suggests.

Bitty throws the shirt down. "I tried that look. It feels wrong. Who wears a bowtie to a Thai restaurant?"

It turns out, Bitty does. He plays with the bowtie as he waits in front of the restaurant. The bus times were not in his favour and he got here 20 minutes before their reservation which has given him plenty of time to get even more worried about this date. His first date skills are rusty and even if they weren't, is he really going to ask Jack about his job and what he does for fun when he knows in intimate detail the taste of his mouth?

Bitty pulls out his phone and opens Twitter to try and distract himself. It works wonderfully until he sees that Shitty has retweeted something from the Falconers’ official Twitter and he finds himself staring at a picture of a flushed and sweaty Jack in his hockey gear.

He swallows, throat suddenly dry, which is of course the exact moment Jack appears in real life.

"Hi."

Bitty jumps and his phone slips from his hand, landing screen up so Jack can see what he's been staring at.

Bitty snatches his phone up quickly but he knows Jack's seen it.

"Missing me already, eh?" He asks teasingly.

Bitty knows he's bright red. "No, no. I was just—I got here early and I was killing time and my friend just retweeted it. I didn't go hunting for it. Promise."

Jack nods and smiles gleefully while Bitty thinks about dying of embarrassment.

"Let's go in, shall we?" Jack puts his hand on Bitty's lower back to steer him and Bitty goes easily, trying to figure out if Jack’s hand really is that hot or Bitty’s just super sensitive to his touch.

"Reservation for Jack Zimmermann," Jack tells the hostess at the front desk.

She leads them to a table right in the back of the restaurant.

"Were you waiting long?" Jack asks as they settle in.

"Oh, um. Not that long. Fifteen minutes?"

"And I thought I was going to be the early one," Jack says, eyebrows lifting.

"Well, to be honest, I'm not normally showing up early to things, but the buses are less frequent in the evening so it was either that or ten minutes late." Bitty shrugs.

"I'm sorry. I should have offered to drive you." Jack’s expression, genuine regret, makes Bitty feel light as air. Jack really, actually, honestly cares about a little thing like that.

Dinner goes well. The food is average but the mood of the restaurant is great and no-one interrupts them which Jack says is actually the norm even though Bitty knows he’s a sports star with a face on buses. Bitty doesn’t ask any of his usual first date questions but he gets asked them by Jack and the attentive look that Jack bestows upon him as he answers has him feeling flustered most of the dinner, which means he talks in long rambling sentences that Jack seems to follow with no issues. It’s incredibly endearing to watch Jack react through his eyebrows and mouth and eyes and with questions every now and then. Bitty feels three drinks in and loose-limbed though he’s only had one glass of wine.

Bitty suggests a walk after they’ve paid because he’s been itching to hold Jack’s hand which is difficult to do when you need to use a knife and fork to eat. Jack agrees easily and he’s the one to reach for Bitty’s hand when they leave the restaurant.

Bitty smiles shyly up at Jack and squeezes his fingers lightly.

They don’t go far, or with any particular destination in mind. Bitty happily goes where Jack leads, listening to Jack recount a story from his early days in the league. Bitty likes hearing the love in Jack’s voice when he speaks.

It feels like only minutes later that Jack sighs and pulls Bitty off to the side of the pathway onto a small nature strip.

“Sorry to do this, but I need to head home,” Jack tells him

Bitty checks the watch on Jack’s wrist. “Shit. Is it really that late?"

"Yeah.” Jack fits his hands to Bitty’s hips like he had the night he asked him out. “I really want to stay out, but I've got an early skate tomorrow."

Bitty presses his hands to Jack’s chest, getting a thrill to feel the solid weight of it. It’s somehow more solid than he’d remembered. And he’s seen the pictures now. He was right about the eight-pack. "That's fine, Jack. I don't want you skating tired on my account."

"Thanks. But hey," Jack grabs Bitty's hands off his chest. "Let me drive you home?"

Bitty's fingers tingle at the contact. "You just said you had an early skate tomorrow," Bitty points out.

Jack kisses Bitty’s palms. "I do."

"So I'll just catch a bus again.” More tingles race down Bitty’s arm to his chest. He goes up on tiptoes and whispers jokingly, “I'm very good at it. I've had lots of practise."

Jack chuckles though Bitty knows it’s really not that funny. "How long will a bus take you?" he asks.

Bitty drops back to flat feet, shaking his head. "Not telling."

"What? Why?"

"Because," Bitty says. "If I say it's close, you'll insist on giving me a lift. If I say it's far away, you'll  _ still insist on giving me a lift _ ."

Jack smiles and leans down to kiss Bitty quickly. "Right on both counts."

"Thank you."

Jack kisses Bitty again. Not as quick. Bitty lets him, though he’s pretty sure Jack’s trying to soften him up.

"Lift to the bus stop?" Jack asks after biting gently down on Bitty’s lower lip and causing a jolt of heat at the base of Bitty’s spine.

Bitty narrows his eyes at Jack. "You're quite set on this, aren't you."

Jack’s eyes sparkle with mischievousness. "Yes. The longer you hold out, the less sleep I'm getting tonight and the more tired I'll be at skate tomorrow. And I thought you didn't want that."

Bitty pushes back from Jack. He doesn't get far because Jack grabs his wrists and holds his hands back against his chest. It’s loose enough Bitty could pull away. He doesn’t. "Don't guilt trip me, mister."

Jack doesn’t say a word, just rubs his thumbs in an infuriating caress over Bitty’s hands that leaves a familiar trail of heat on Bitty’s skin.

Bitty’s resolve melts very quickly. “Fine. Just to the bus stop.”

-

It would take more than a miracle for Shitty not to drill Bitty about his date, but he was hoping to at least not have the conversation first thing in the morning.

"Late night?" Shitty guesses, complete with wagging eyebrows and a wink, which would be excessive on anyone else but is normal on him.

Bitty did go for the grande size coffee this morning.

"Not the way you're thinking," Bitty says, rubbing his eyes and logging onto his computer to clock in.

"How do you know what I'm thinking?"

Bitty rolls his eyes. "The wink gave it away."

Shitty doesn't try to refute the point.

"So?" Shitty wheels his chair an inch toward Bitty.

Bitty opens his emails and takes a sip of his very large coffee.

"Bro." Shitty shifts another inch. "Come on."

It's not like Bitty was planning on keeping it a secret from Shitty, he's just so fun to rile up.

Bitty clears his throat. "Firstly, I did not spend the night at his place, like you’re clearly implying." Bitty spins his chair to face his friend.

"But the coffee -"

"It was our  _ first date _ ."

"And you've already macked on each other for, like, half a night, so, was it really?"

Bitty's glad the library is near empty at the moment. "Yes, it was. And  _ macked on _ ? Have you been reading through the outdated YA books during work again?"

"You know it," Shitty jokes, before getting serious. "But really. How was it?"

"It was… Really good," Bitty says honestly, biting down on his lip as butterflies erupt inside him.

Shitty inches his chair closer and does the eyebrow wiggle again. “So, give me some deets. I know you had dinner at that Thai place.”

"We had dinner. Then went for a walk. And he... drove me home."

Bitty has another sip of his coffee and it's unclear whether the heat from that or his memory of last night makes his face feel warm and flushed.

Shitty nods slowly. “Bro. I think you need to check out a dictionary. I asked for  _ deets _ .”

“Well, it was dinner. It’s not that special to talk about.”

“Come on. I will find even the most boring detail about the night special because it’s you.”

Bitty kicks his foot softly against Shitty’s chair to thank him for the compliment. “I know you will, but there’s really not much. We talked and he asked me lots of questions and really listened when I answered them, you know?”

Shitty smiles and nods. “Sounds awesome.”

Bitty nods. “Then we went for a little walk after and talked more. And he held my hand, and his hands are so nice and big, you know?” Bitty wraps both hands around his coffee cup. It’s a poor replica of the heat of Jack’s hands in his own.

“See!” Shitty says, leaning in and putting his hands on Bitty’s knees. “These are exciting details, man! So what was the best part of the night, if you had to pick a highlight?”

Bitty thinks it over. He keeps recalling little details that he knows aren’t the things Shitty is asking about; Jack pulling out his chair for him at the restaurant, Jack remembering something Bitty had told him the first night they met at Annie’s, Jack complimenting his bowtie, Jack smiling at him over a glass of wine.

Eventually, he just picks something to tell Shitty. “Well, he did drive me home.”

Shitty narrows his eyes and takes a moment to speak. "That’s the highlight?"

"No, you don't get it." Bitty puts his coffee on the desk so he can use his hands to fully articulate his point. "He drove me  _ all the way _ home."

Shitty shakes his head a little. "Is that a euphemism?"

"No!" Bitty exclaims, then looks around but there's no one near enough to them to have heard.

"So he literally drove you home —all the way —and that’s the highlight? Do we need to have a talk about standards and the kind of man you deserve?"

Bitty groans. "No. We do not, thank you. It's too early for any of your diatribes."

“Sorry. It’s just, you told me you had a really good date and Jack listened to you and held your hand, which are like all good solid things to expect on a date. But the highlight is...he drove you home?”

Bitty tries to make Shitty see what was so touching about it. “He was really, uh, annoyed with himself that he didn’t offer to pick me up for the date? I told him I caught the bus in. So then in the end —he had to leave for an early skate the next morning —he knew I was planning to get the bus again and he offered to drive me home. But I said no because he had that morning skate. So he was like, ‘let me drive you to the bus stop’ which I let him because he was being very adamant and I knew he was still a little guilty from not offering me a lift in the first place. Also, when he smiles, it’s like, my defences go  _ woosh _ .” Bitty lifts his hands up and mimes something dropping.

Bitty pauses to take a breath. "So I directed him to the bus stop and then he was like, 'there's no good spot to pull over here, where's the next one?' so I directed him to the next one and he'd be like 'I can't see it, where are you pointing' when the stop is clearly right there. So he'd keep going being like 'which is the next in the direction of your place' and it went on and on and,” Bitty starts smiling, remembering how serious Jack was being even when it became obvious he was lying. “Gosh, I was laughing so hard by the end. And he's still playing at it with this totally serious expression! And it was… Ridiculous.” Bitty sighs out. “But like a good ridiculous."

This time, Bitty knows his face flush is from the memory of last night. He has to bite down on his lip to stop his smile from overtaking his face. Then he realises it’s just him and Shitty and why bother. He smiles so big his cheekbones feel it.

"As long as it wasn't like a weird kidnapping vibe between the two of you?" Shitty checks.

Bitty shakes his head, still smiling. "It wasn't."

"Well then, my man, Jack Zimmermann is more ridiculous in person than I thought he’d be, and you know I watch those Falcs TV segments religiously.”

“Yeah. He’s kinda dorky. But I love it,” Bitty says, hearing the obvious fondness in his own voice. It’s probably premature but screw it, he feels fantastic.

“I'm glad you had a good time."

Shitty pushes his chair back over to his desk and Bitty finally opens his first email twenty minutes into his working day.

-

Bitty spends the rest of the week feeling on top of the world. Shitty starts taking to sending him pictures every time he sees Jack’s ads and pairing them with inappropriate strings of emojis. Lardo comes around for dinner the night she gets back from her trip and Bitty recounts his and Jack’s short history in way too much detail.

Jack and Bitty fit in another two dates before Jack has to travel for work. Though they’re both short, they’re some of the best dates of Bitty’s life and he finally learns from personal experience that Jack’s abs are indeed  _ abs _ .

Which of course means that fate or the universe or whoever is out there pulling the strings of his life decides to bring him back into check.

"Oh shit," Bitty says when the email comes through.

"What? What is it?" Shitty says immediately, which is impressive as he had a mouthful of cupcake which he’s not meant to be eating at the desk.

Bitty turns to Shitty, pointing shakily at his computer. "Robards wants to see me this afternoon."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Shitty says.

"No. Read this." Bitty gestures Shitty over to his screen.

Shitty stands behind him and leans over his shoulder. He takes a few seconds to read the email from their boss, then claps Bitty roughly on the shoulder. "Fuck," he says very emphatically.

Shitty pulls his chair across to Bitty so they can talk softly. "What do you think it's about?"

Bitty shrugs and picks at the corner of his mouse pad where the covering is peeling away.

"Don't know. It doesn't sound good."

The hour leading up to the meeting is basically a write off for Bitty, as much as he tries to distract himself by resorting their staff recommendations shelf.

The meeting is ten of the most uncomfortable minutes of Bitty's life, in which he sits in silence, shrinking further and further into the uncomfortable wooden chair Robards has across from his desk. Bitty becomes certain over the course of the meeting that the chair is designed to be torturous for all who sit in it. His old boss had a nice, comfy lounge chair and always offered Bitty a piece of candy when he came in the office. He had liked her immensely from his first interview for the position. Robards has only been Head Librarian for five months but it feels longer to Bitty.

Bitty leaves the office knowing he’s on the verge of crying. Robards didn’t say anything outright, but Bitty can tell he doesn’t think Bitty’s position is necessary for the running of the library.

Shitty's not at the desk when Bitty is done but he’s desperate to talk to someone. He needs to let the feelings out somehow and he’d prefer the method not be crying quietly at the desk in the middle of a public library. He’d call Lardo, but he knows she’s on a flight this afternoon, going to another gallery opening with some art friends.

He sits heavily in his chair at the desk and presses his palms roughly into his chest, which is no help. He checks no-one needs assistance and tries to spot Shitty once more, before giving in to place the call he’s about to.

He scrolls to Jack’s name in his contact list and rings him.

It goes to voicemail, which Bitty knew it would as Jack is away on a roadie and warned Bitty he would only be replying sporadically. Hearing his voice message soothes Bitty a little in that he doesn’t feel like tears will fall as soon as he starts speaking, but unfortunately, his longing for the warmth of Jack’s arms returns, familiar from the past few weeks.

"Hi, honey. Um, I know you're on your roadie still and won't get this for a while but I -" Bitty gulps, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "I got some bad work news and I'd really love to talk to you about it.” Bitty doesn’t know what else to say and it turns out, he was lying to himself about the not crying thing.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologises and he gasps obviously in the phone, bringing himself back under control. “I should have waited to call you when I was less emotional. I’m sorry. Good game the other night, honey. I’ll, I’ll see you when you get back.”

Bitty hangs up and takes a deep breath in and then out. That was a lot to put on Jack over a phone call, but it’s too late to take it back now.

-

Bitty stress bakes when he gets home, but only manages a batch of muffins and making the dough for some gingerbread before he’s too exhausted to continue, having struggled through the rest of the day despite Shitty encouraging him to take the afternoon off, only to come home and cry on and off throughout the evening. Bitty drinks a full bottle of water to counter all the crying and is asleep by nine. Thank goodness he has the next two days off.

He wakes to the repeated buzzing of his phone, which he keeps on his nightstand by his bed. His throat is dry and his head feels heavy from the crying, but he reaches for the phone to see what’s going on. He squints against the bright numbers telling him it’s 3am, then sees a series of text messages from Jack. He scrolls down to read them through in order.

**Jack:** Listened to your message. Sorry wasn’t around to answer. Sorry you had a crap day. On plane about to take off. Will message when land.

**Jack: ** We’ve landed. I’m going to call.

**Jack: ** Missed call from Jack at 21:22

**Jack:** Missed call from Jack at 21:23

**Jack: ** Jack left you a voicemail at 21:25

**Jack:** I’m coming over.

**Jack: ** I’m here.

**Jack: ** You’re not answering the doorbell.

**Jack:** Missed call from Jack at 02:58

**Jack:** Bits? Can you let me in?

Bitty’s wide awake now. He throws off the covers and stumbles out of his room, down the corridor and to his front door, opening it. The cold night air is a shock, but the bigger shock is Jack standing on Bitty's front step, suitcase by his side and game day suit still on.

"Jack. What —How -" Bitty can’t think. Jack is here. In front of him.

"I got your message."

Bitty falls forward into Jack, whose arms come up to wrap tight around him.

"I've got you," Jack whispers, pressing a kiss into his hair and not even caring that Bitty's crying into his probably very nice and expensive suit. He rubs his arms up and down Bitty’s back, helping keep Bitty warm though they’re still in his doorway with the door wide open.

Bitty pulls back eventually, hands curled around the lapels of Jack’s jacket. "Lord, I can't believe you."

“You sounded upset on the phone.” Jack cradles Bitty’s face in his hands.

“I didn’t mean for you to come all the way here the minute you got back.”

“I know.” Jack’s fingers brush along Bitty’s cheeks. “I wanted to be here for you.”

“Jack.” Bitty almost starts crying again.

"Let's go to bed, eh."

-

Bitty almost thinks he dreamt it, but when he wakes up the next morning, Jack's asleep beside him still. Bitty runs his eyes over Jack’s features; the smooth forehead, mussed hair and parted lips. He can’t believe this man —this famous hockey player —is asleep in his bed after crossing the city in the middle of the night just to comfort Bitty. He can’t remember what he dreamed about last night but he’s sure this reality is far better than anything his imagination could have come up with.

He shuffles in closer to Jack and slowly reaches out a hand to brush over a lock of Jack’s hair.

“Morning,” he whispers when Jack’s eyes blink open.

Jack’s lips lift gently at the corners and Bitty’s heart soars. Jack’s so gorgeous. Bitty leans in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s just after eight,” he tells Jack. “Do you need to head off?”

Jack shakes his head. "I've got the morning off."

“You’re gonna stay?”

“Yeah. If that’s alright?” Jack checks.

Bitty nods, heartbeat pumping loudly in his ears, stomach flipping over. “Of course it is.”

Bitty makes them a simple scrambled eggs for breakfast while Jack showers, having gone straight from the plane to Bitty’s place. Jack comes into the kitchen wearing the clothes he went to bed in, and he and Bitty sit at his small kitchen table in their pyjamas to eat. Bitty doesn’t bring up the reason for his phone call and Jack doesn’t ask. They spend the breakfast instead talking about Jack’s roadie and what new books Bitty has ordered for the library.

"What do you normally do when you've had a crap day?” Jack asks after breakfast as he washes dishes by hand. “How do you cheer yourself up?"

"Well I…" Bitty averts his gaze and twists the tea towel in his hand. "It's a little embarrassing."

"If it can make you happy when you're feeling shit, I don't think you can call that embarrassing," Jack says evenly.

"Okay. Well I." Bitty swallows. "I watch old romantic comedies."

Jack laughs gently and Bitty knows it's not at him.

"That's not embarrassing, bud. I'm pretty sure those are made to be enjoyed.” Jack puts the final plate into the drying rack and Bitty lets it drip-dry for a bit. “Do you have a favourite?"

"Notting Hill," Bitty answers immediately now that he knows Jack won't judge him for it.

"Great. Let’s watch it. Do you own it?” Jack dries his hands on the tea towel Bitty is holding.

“I’ve got a copy on my computer.”

“I’ll go grab your laptop. It was in your room, yes?”

Bitty nods and Jack brushes a kiss to his temple as he goes to walk past. Bitty shivers and grabs Jack by the wrist.

"Yeah?” Jack turns back to look at Bitty. “You need something?"

Bitty shakes his head. "No. Just want."

He reaches up and pulls Jack's face down so he can kiss him, open mouthed and with his whole body pressing up against Jack’s.

-

Jack is a perfect movie companion, by which Bitty means he laughs in the right places, doesn’t mind when Bitty talks over the top of it and is great at snuggling. Bitty feels like he’s watching the film with new eyes, this story of the famous actress and the book-store owner. For the very first time, he can draw a direct parallel to his own life, and him and Jack. Bitty keeps the thought to himself.

“When are you next working?” Jack asks Bitty as he changes from pyjamas into casual clothes, getting ready to head in for an afternoon team meeting.

Bitty picks a pillow off his bed and hugs it to his chest, watching the muscles in Jack’s body move; his thighs and arms and sides. He takes Bitty’s breath away in an uncomfortably literal sense. “Day after tomorrow. Which’ll be good. Give me time to get my head right.”

Jack hums. "Did you always want to work in a library?" he asks Bitty, pulling jeans on.

"You know, not at all. I never thought about it before Shitty started working there. I actually…” Bitty lifts his eyes off Jack’s still-bare chest, “I've always dreamed of owning a place like Annie's. Or running one."

"Really." Jack smiles softly at him.

"Mm-hm. It's like a perfect combination of things I love; books and food and people."

Jack nods slowly, lifting his shirt off the back of Bitty’s desk chair and slipping it on. "I can see that. Have you ever spoken to anyone at Annie's about it?"

Bitty tugs at a corner of his pillow. "No."

"You should," Jack encourages, buttoning his shirt up and coming to sit beside Bitty on the edge of the bed.

Bitty drops a hand onto Jack’s thigh. "I don't know. It seems pretty rude to go up and start asking about jobs."

"You're pretty close with most of the staff there. I'm sure they wouldn't take it that way,” Jack points out. “Maybe just ask to have a sit down with the manager and see what's involved?"

Bitty sighs. "You make it sound very reasonable when you put it that way."

"I'm a very reasonable person," Jack says sagely, leaning in to kiss Bitty gently. "Also," Jack adds, "I have the sense you're not entirely happy at the library."

Bitty frowns. "I love the library. Shitty's there, and the after-school programs are getting really popular, and -”

"But you hate your boss," Jack interrupts, laying his hand over Bitty’s, "and that has a big impact."

Bitty bites his tongue. "Hate is a strong word," he says, but he can't deny Jack's right, that his feelings toward Robards, whatever they may be, aren't all that positive.

Thankfully, Jack doesn't push any further. "Just something to think about," he says, lifting to run his fingers through Bitty's hair and press another kiss to his lips.


	3. And Then One Day

In Bitty’s mind, Jack trekking it to his place after the phonecall marks a turning point in their relationship from ‘we’re trying this out’ to ‘this is really happening’. He throws himself into the new relationship and it is heaven. Dating Jack is heaven. Well, it’s mostly heaven. The excessive chirping, Bitty could do without, but he lets himself fall in love with the way Jack kisses and the way he says ‘Bits’, and the fit of his arms around Bitty’s waist. The sex is pretty good too. They make time easily and eagerly for each other, though there are times when Jack's hockey schedule makes it less easy than they'd like.

They haven’t officially met each-others’ friends yet, but Jack’s mentioned a dinner with his ex-captain, Marty, and a few other Falconers. Plus, he asked the other night if he could introduce his parents to Bitty over skype. Bitty starts thinking about inviting Jack to be his plus one to Shitty and Lardo’s wedding but holds back from asking because it’s still months away and Jack hasn’t actually met either of them.

Bitty works on fixing the latter, but it takes a few weeks before everyone's schedules line up and Jack can come along to a trivia night at Annie's.

Jack asks Bitty a lot of questions about his friends in the days leading up to the trivia night, often through a sporadic text at the strangest time of day. It’s nice to know Jack’s putting the effort into learning about Bitty’s close friends, and Bitty’s already returning the favour, watching Falcs TV segments before bed so he can name everyone on Jack’s team.

Bitty’s expecting it when Jack is adorably awkward when they first meet. Jack keeps slipping into what he’s told Bitty his teammates call his ‘captain’s camera charm’ then dropping back to being Jack. It takes a while until Shitty's name sounds comfortable from his mouth, but once the trivia starts he relaxes. Bitty was expecting Jack to help them out with the sports questions, but he surprises Bitty by answering the history questions instead.

Obviously, the others are surprised also.

"I'm impressed," Lardo says to Jack after he gets another history question for them. "You really know this stuff."

Jack shrugs. "I like history. Probably would've studied it if I didn't go into hockey."

Bitty pivots sideways on his chair to look at him. "Really?"

"Yeah." Jack lays an arm across the back of Bitty's chair. "I've thought about online courses but it's too much with full time hockey as well. Maybe when I retire."

Bitty feels a ridiculous, bubbly giddiness inside him when Jack gets the next history question right. He kisses Jack’s jaw and realises he’s proud. Jack smiles fondly at him and kisses him back and Bitty doesn’t care that Lardo is unsubtly taking a photo of them. He makes a mental note to ask her to send it to him later.

During a pause between rounds, Jack and Shitty go to grab more drinks for the table and Bitty gets Lardo to airdrop the photo to his phone.

"Oh. Hang on. I just remembered. I’m gonna airdrop you something else, too.”

"Yeah? What is it?"

"The hiring sign Annie's has in the window."

“I must’ve missed it when I came in.” He definitely did. Jack had been pulling his focus. “I guess it is coming up on summer, so that’s not surprising," Bitty tells her, eyes flicking over to where Jack and Shitty are laughing at the counter.

"No, no. The sign wasn't for summer help." Lardo leans over the table toward Bitty. "It's for a new assistant manager."

Bitty's eyes snap to Lardo.

"Assistant manager," he repeats. "You're serious?"

"Yep. Deadly."

"Oh my gosh." Bitty opens the picture Lardo sent to see she’s right. It’s for an assistant manager.

“Oh my gosh,” he repeats, jaw loose. "Shruti hinted to me something was happening, like, two months ago. I totally forgot."

“Forgot what?” Shitty asks, depositing a drink on the table in front of Lardo.

“Annie’s is looking for an Assistant Manager,” Bitty says, voice squeaky.

"Well holy shit, bruh. Your dream job!"

"I know!"

“That’s amazing,” Jack says, throwing an arm around Bitty’s shoulder and kissing his temple. “You’ve got to apply.”

“Yeah.” Bitty feels overwhelmed. It’s like fate is yanking him back to the high ground after his horrible meeting with Robards, like it’s overcorrecting for bringing him down in the first place. After telling Jack about his job fantasy the other night, he’d actually opened his resume and updated it for the first time in over a year, and now his dream job is an actual possibility. He can’t believe it.

Dream job, dream guy.

Bitty looks around to the people at the table and smiles.

-

Bitty goes back with Jack to his place after trivia. It's becoming a home away from home for him. He's got a favourite spot on the couch and a certain coffee mug he likes. It’s not like with anyone Bitty’s ever dated before, how they seem to have gone from 0 to 100 in the space of weeks. They've been to each others’ places, they’ve defined-the-relationship, Jack’s already seen Bitty cry, and Jack’s already talked Bitty through his anxiety and what it might mean for them.

"Not at bad as you were imagining?" Bitty asks Jack as he takes his shoes off in Jack’s foyer and follows Jack through to the living room.

"Things rarely are, but that's anxiety for you," Jack replies easily, and Bitty's touched that it is easy for him to say things like that to Bitty.

Jack sits in the middle of the couch and Bitty sits beside him, swinging his legs up over Jack's, stretching his arm along the back of the couch. Jack wraps his hands around Bitty's ankles.

They sit in comfortable silence, Bitty looking at Jack and Jack looking back at him, and Bitty feels an extreme fondness within him that he knows is on the way to becoming something deeper.

"I can't believe you're a secret history nerd," Bitty breaks the silence.

Jack laughs softly. Bitty's heart flips up and over and his skin tingles like it often does when Jack’s touching him.

"You're really considering studying after you retire, aren't you," Bitty says.

"Yeah." Jack nods. "I am."

Bitty tilts his head. "I'm trying to picture you at frat parties and in the dining hall."

"Well feel free to stop," Jack advises, tightening his grip on Bitty's ankles for a second. "I'll most likely do it online. It won't be anything like the college experience you probably had."

Bitty thinks back on that confusing time of his life. "Maybe that's for the best," he tells Jack, lifting his fingers to play with Jack's hair.

"Perhaps. But it's something I've always been interested in doing."

"College?"

"Mm-hm. Getting some kind of degree. I'd like to show people I'm more than just hockey."

"Jack." Bitty drops his hand to Jack's nape. "You already are."

"I know."

"That's not the reason you want to get a degree is it? To prove something?"

"No way. You were at trivia tonight, weren't you?" Jack asks jokingly. "I didn't know all that stuff because I've got something to prove."

"How do you know it all?" Bitty asks, playing his fingers along the hem of Jack's shirt. "You haven't taken classes yet, I thought?"

"I like reading nonfiction."

"Really?"

"Mm-hm. Haven't you noticed the kinds of books on the shelf in my room?"

"Not really. I'm normally a little distracted when I'm in there," Bitty says lowly.

Jack gives Bitty a look that sends his pulse racing, but instead of taking the opening, he says, “The guys like to tease me about taking them on roadies."

"You take them on roadies?"

Jack nods.

Bitty leans over to press a kiss to Jack's lips. "I love every new thing I learn about you. That's amazing, Jack,"

"Ah, not really." Jack drops his chin to his chest.

Bitty rolls his eyes. "You're terrible at taking a compliment, you know."

“Yeah, well.”

Bitty takes it as a challenge. One day, he’s going to make sure Jack is comfortable with how incredible he is, inside and outside of hockey.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking.” Bitty tugs lightly at Jack’s hair. “I know it’s far away, but I was wondering, now that you’ve met them...Do you want to be my plus one to Shitty and Lardo’s wedding?”

“When is it?” Jack asks.

“I’ve already looked at your hockey schedule and there’s no clashes.”

“Okay.”

“It’s, uh, not for another four months.” Bitty bites his lip.

Jack nods slowly, hand sliding up Bitty’s calf to the back of his knee. “Four months, eh?”

“Yeah,” Bitty whispers, feeling a little like he’s just jumped out of a plane from 15’000 feet above ground.

Jack laughs and presses a kiss to Bitty’s cheek. “I’d love to be your plus-one.”

“Really?” Bitty is relieved.

“Of course.” Jack smiles softly at him.

“Even though it’s four months away?” Bitty checks, because Jack saying yes to this is Jack saying yes to  _ them  _ for another four months at least.

“Especially because it’s that far away.” Jack puts a hand on Bitty’s cheek. The warmth from his skin brands Bitty.

-

After meeting Lardo and Shitty, Jack becomes proactive in arranging for Bitty to meet his teammates, new and old. There's so many names to learn and watching the Falcs TV segments and Jack's games only gets Bitty so far when many of the players have partners or kids who are apparently all going to be at the mid-season barbecue Jack's planning on bringing him to, to mark the end of regular season and them moving into playoffs. Bitty's thankful for the sprawling family lunches of his youth to prepare him for the 40-odd people who will be gathering at Jack's ex-captain's house.

Meeting Jack’s friends is stressful until the second Bitty actually meets Jack’s friends. Bitty finds himself swept up easily into the congeniality of the gathering, getting involved in conversations about everything from the latest season of The Bachelorette to the best way to fill out your tax form, and of course the Falconers’ chances of winning the cup this year. Bitty’s two pies get eaten up so fast he barely manages to get him and Jack a slice each.

He goes back to Jack’s apartment after, feeling pleased with himself and a little tipsy. He falls asleep easily, curled up facing Jack on the big bed.

He's woken a few hours later by Jack tossing the sheets off and sitting up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He takes a deep breath and blows it out slow and steady.

“Jack?” Bitty asks softly, reaching a hand out to rest lightly against Jack’s bare back.

Jack doesn’t lean into it.

"Bad dream," Jack says roughly, back taught beneath Bitty's fingertips.

Bitty shuffles upright a little. "Want to talk about it?"

Bitty keeps his hand on Jack and doesn't say anything else. It takes a minute of Jack breathing in and out slowly for his body to lose some of the tension.

“I’ve been having these dreams,” Jack starts, hands gripping the edge of the mattress.

"What’re they about?” Bitty asks, pressing his palm flat to Jack’s back and moving it in a slow circle.

“It’s the Stanley Cup match, last few seconds of play. We’re winning and I have possession and I take a shot on goal. Then I look and you’re there. In goal.”

Jack takes a ragged breath, and Bitty feels him tense up again. “And I can’t do anything.” Frustration sounds in Jack’s voice. “The puck’s going right for you. You’re not wearing any protective gear. You’re in that costume from the first night we met. And -” Jack sucks in a breath. "I always wake up before it hits you.”

"I'm sorry," Bitty says because he can't think of anything else to say. He keeps his hand moving on Jack's back.

Previous to this night, the thought of featuring in Jack's dreams was a nice one. Now, Bitty's not sure what it means that Jack’s been having these dreams on what sounds like a regular basis.

"I'm worried. Constantly,” Jack continues in a whispered confession. “I've never had a relationship coincide with the playoffs before. I know how I can get at this time. Is not going to be…"

Bitty doesn't try to finish the sentence as Jack trails off, just keeps his fingertips running lightly over Jack's arm to let Jack know he's there with him.

"I'm going to be away more. My anxiety will be worse. I might get snippy with you, or not be in the mood for things we normally do. I don't know -” Jack cuts off from what sounds like an oft-repeated list and exhales roughly. "I don't know. I don't like that I don't know. I don't like that I'm spending so much time trying to work it out when I should be focusing on my game."

Bitty’s heart hurts, an actual physical pain in his chest to think that Jack’s been going through these emotions alone. "Have you talked to any of the guys on the team about this?"

Jack shakes his head.

"Well. Seems half of them are married, or in long-term relationships. They’ve all been through the playoffs with a significant other. Maybe they have some advice?” Bitty suggests gently, not sure what else he can do but keep touching Jack, grounding him.

“Yeah,” Jack says, though Bitty can tell he doesn’t believe it all the way.

-

Playoffs are hard. It's both the rock and the hard place that Bitty and Jack get stuck between. They see each other face-to-face less, and true to his word, Jack's entire being turns toward hockey in a way Bitty hasn't experienced before. It's tough, it is, but Bitty never loses the belief that it's worth it, that they’re working.

Bitty never puts any pressure on Jack for them to spend more time together —even though Jack's prediction was right and his hockey schedule gets more intense. Bitty can tell enough pressure is coming from his coaches and Jack himself. Bitty takes comfort that Jack still texts every day and calls him after away games, even if they only chat for a minute or two.

Bitty's confident in them and loving Jack more every day which causes great befuddlement in his emotional wellbeing. One minute he's floating and the next, Jack's away again and the physical distance starts hurting somewhere in his chest if he dwells too much on it. Bitty tries to get more involved in the library to take his mind off missing Jack, and also as a way of giving Robards a reminder that Bitty's role is important, thank you very much. All the while, he works on his application for the job at Annie’s, wanting to make sure it’s perfect before he submits it.

Bitty didn't go to any games in the lead up to playoffs —watched plenty at home though —but for the second stretch of Jack's home games during playoff season, Jack gets Bitty, Lardo and Shitty tickets. The three of them go a little crazy on the merch site and cover themselves head to toe in Falconers gear. Bitty wears Jack's number proudly. He sends Jack a picture before leaving for the game and gets a reply in seconds.

**Jack:** Looks good on you.

**Bitty: ** But better off, right?

Bitty's been away from Jack too long. Sue him for the overt flirting.

**Jack: ** Haha. I'm not sure…

**Bitty:** :O

**Bitty:** ;)

**Bitty: ** Good luck tonight. Still good for drinks with us after?

**Jack:** Yes.

-

The game is rough and filled with penalty minutes for players on both sides. Bitty winces as much as he cheers and he can almost feel a deadness in the air when it becomes obvious the Falconers are going to lose. Jack doesn't make eye contact with him as he exits down the players’ tunnel, though he'd been quick to offer Bitty and the others a wave during warm-ups.

Bitty watches him go, biting down on his lip.

Lardo bumps her elbow gently into his side. "We'll meet you at the bar?"

Bitty nods and offers a smile to her. Shitty pats his back as he leaves.

Bitty makes sure to take his time getting the locker room, Jack having cleared him for access weeks ago. He walks slowly, hands in pockets and head down.

Obviously, it's not the first game Jack's ever lost, but it's the first with Bitty in the audience. He shouldn't presume that makes any difference but what if it had thrown Jack off somehow? He's learned that hockey players can be ridiculously superstitious. What if Jack never wants him at a game again?

Bitty remembers the first game Jack lost this playoff season. It was his first away game. He'd called Bitty and they sat in silence on the phone together until Bitty started rambling about his day. Silence in person is one thing, but during a phone call… Bitty struggled. He's not sure how long he monologued until Jack said a quiet, "Thanks."

"Any time," Bitty had said.

"I like your voice," Jack had told him. "It grounds me."

Bitty's cheeks had burned hot at that and the missing spiked into a painful stab in his chest.

Jack's still in his hockey gear by the time Bitty finds him in the corridor outside the locker room. He's leaning against the wall with his head down, looking at the floor. Jack doesn't seem to have noticed him yet. Bitty's sure it's because he's stuck in his head, replaying the game and everything that could have gone differently.

Bitty stops for a second, heart clenching, before he walks over slowly and leans against the wall beside Jack.

"Hey, sweetpea."

Jack exhales roughly. His hand finds Bitty's and holds it. Bitty doesn't comment on the fact that it's shaking, just wraps his other hand over the top of it to enclose Jack's palm.

"I can't do drinks tonight," Jack tells him.

Bitty tries not to react outwardly, though his heart has just plummeted. Bitty tells himself not to take Jack's refusal out of context, but he's been spending too much time thinking about Jack's late night confession after his nightmare not to.

"You sure? It might take your mind off things."

"I'm sure." Jack drops Bitty's hand to cross his arms over his chest, staring at the opposite wall. "I'm not good company like this."

"I don't mind." Bitty wouldn't mind if Jack sat pressed beside him and didn't say a word the whole night. He just wants to be around him. They get so little time these days.

Jack shakes his head. "I don't want to be a downer in front of your friends."

Bitty swallows a sigh. "Alright." He presses a kiss to Jack's shoulder and lets Jack retreat back into the locker room, tugging at the edge of his Zimmermann hoodie and wondering why it feels like he's been fed an excuse.

—

Bitty takes a deep breath before entering the bar, trying to put all his worry into the breath and swallow it down. This night is meant to be fun.

He spots his friends easily, mostly because Shitty waves obnoxiously at him. It does get Bitty to smile.

"No Jack?" Shitty asks, pushing a chair out for Bitty with his foot.

Bitty shakes his head. "He's not feeling up to it."

"I get it," Lardo says. "Was a really rough loss."

They're playing highlights from the game on the TV behind the bar. Bitty can see it in the mirrors behind Lardo and Shitty's heads. "It was."

Bitty reaches for a potato wedge from the bowl on their table for something to do, eating it slowly so he doesn't have to contribute to the conversation. His eyes keep landing on the reflection of the screen which only reminds him of Jack in the corridor, not looking at him and bailing out on drinks.

"Bitty?" Lardo has to tap his hand to get his attention. "Did you want to head home?" she asks him.

Bitty swallows his mouthful. "What. Why’d you ask?"

"Bro, not to make you feel bad or whatever," Shitty says, sharing a look with Lardo, "but we can tell you're not really enjoying being here."

Bitty told Jack that coming out tonight would help distract him. If only those words were true for him as well.

Bitty tries shaping his mouth into a smile. "Just sad Jack isn't here."

"How're things going with you two?" Lardo inquires. "I haven't properly asked since I dropped by the library the other day."

"They seem fine," Bitty tells her, trying not to divulge too much of his inner worry. Lardo, perceptive friend she is, merely raises an eyebrow and stays silent. Shitty follows suit.

"We spend so little time physically together these days," Bitty offers up a little of his worry. "So... I guess I don't really know."

Bitty picks up another potato wedge. They're cold by this stage and unpleasant to spend a lot of time chewing, which is what he tries to do so he doesn't dump more of his emotions over his friends.

"That must be tough," Shitty commiserates. "On both of you."

Bitty can't help himself. Revealing that little bit has opened up a valve of his feelings. "I got a strange feeling tonight when Jack said he couldn't come out. I don't know. It's just this feeling in my gut. That Jack's pulling away or something." Bitty twists his hands together. "Am I reading too much into it?"

"It could just be the physical distance, like you said," Shitty suggests. "Jack has been away a lot."

"Yeah." Bitty's told himself that too.

"But your gut feeling  _ is _ real."

Bitty swings his head to Lardo.

"I mean like, I don't think it’s a question of are you reading too much into it. If you are or if you aren't, that doesn't matter. Even if Jack isn't actually pulling away, you're worrying that he is, so something  _ is _ going on. Because you're feeling it and it's affecting you."

"Oh, that makes sense," Shitty agrees, tapping the top of his glass with a finger.

Bitty looks back and forth between them. "I'm lost."

"Basically, don't invalidate your feelings, bro," Shitty offers.

"Okay?" Bitty's still lost. "But  _ is _ he pulling away?" he can't help but ask, really wanting to hear a 'no' from his friends, even if they think it's a lie.

“We can’t answer that for you,” Lardo replies, Shitty nodding in agreement.

“I know. I know.” Bitty feels his throat start to close up. "The thing is, the other night-” Bitty pauses and takes a breath, checking with himself that this is something he wants to divulge to his friends.

Bitty's been sitting in what his mother might call a  _ funk _ . Jack seemed his usual self the morning after his nightmare, and they spent a lazy morning together without either of them bringing it up. But now that Bitty knows Jack's been having these dreams frequently and he didn't tell Bitty —and Bitty didn't pick up on it —it's sown the seed for some very worrying thoughts in Bitty's mind. Like are they on the same page in this relationship, and are there other parts of himself that Jack isn't sharing with Bitty, and how  _ will _ the playoffs affect them. He’s starting to get answers to the latter question. He’s not a fan.

Bitty sighs for the upteenth time tonight. He looks to Lardo and Shitty and knows that these two people are going to listen to him with open ears and open hearts.

"I found out Jack’s been having recurring nightmares about me. Well, not  _ about _ me, but I'm in them," Bitty tells his friends, running a hand through his hair.

"Shit," Lardo says heavily.

"Yeah, I know." Bitty's heart hurts thinking about it. "He's been having them for weeks and didn't say a thing."

“So he kept it a secret and that’s worrying you?" Shitty questions.

Bitty is quick to shake his head. "No, that's not —It’s not about the keeping-it-secret thing. Maybe a little. It's more the things he said afterwards."

Shitty blinks. Lardo mouth screws up. "Uh-oh."

"I won't go into all the details, but essentially he was really worried about how the playoffs and the...the _everything_ _to do with playoffs_ were going to affect our relationship.” Bitty frowns, remembering Jack’s taut back and list of troubles. “Like, concerningly worried."

Bitty voice cracks. Lardo gets out of her chair to wrap Bitty in a hug and Bitty tries to soak up all the comfort he can from it.

"I'm worried about him. I’m worried about us,” Bitty confesses into the comfort of Lardo’s neck. "Jack told me he’s constantly concerned about how he's going to act, how it’s going to affect our relationship."

"And he pulled out of tonight,” Shitty sounds out. “Damn."

"Yeah." Bitty takes a deep breath and pulls back from Lardo. “Thanks, Lards.”

Lardo rubs a hand over Bitty’s hair. “Any time.”

"I'm going to try and get him to talk to someone on his team," Bitty announces to Lardo and Shitty. "Hopefully they can help him out, but I just...I don't know what else to do."

"I think just being there will help," Shitty tells Bitty. If only Jack would let him do it.

-

Bitty texts Jack later that night but doesn't hear back. He sleeps poorly and wakes up frowning to see there's still nothing from Jack. He starts working properly on his application for the position at Annie's, secretly bringing it up at work when it gets slow and his thoughts starts creeping into the dark space where Jack's nightmare lives. He sends another text to Jack and talks himself out of a third, though he does reach out to Marty with a request that he talk to Jack. Marty replies within the hour.

Bitty finally hears from Jack the next morning and he sends a quiet thank you to Marty for whatever it is he did. Jack wants to meet Bitty after work so they can talk. Buoyed by the reconciliation, Bitty finishes his application during the day —Robards not around to see him doing it on the work computer —and submits it, eager to tell Jack about it.

Bitty notices the bags under Jack's eyes from across the café and his heart is heavy. He tries to be the bright spot in Jack’s day, talking about submitting the application, and silly anecdotes from the library like he does when Jack calls on his roadies. Bitty's not sure how long Jack let's him talk before he releases the world's heaviest sigh and calls him ‘Eric’.

His next words are a surprise.

“We need to break up.”

Bitty blinks, feeling the words bounce around inside his head like it's an echo chamber.

"You want to break up?" Bitty's own voice sounds far away and dull to his ears. "Not take a break? A real break up?" The coffee he's been drinking threatens to come back up.

Bitty doesn't ask where it's coming from. He remembers every word Jack said after his nightmare. This is the exact worry he confessed the other night to his best friends. He had thought they were in a better place than this.

"This is not something I'm doing lightly," Jack says with a rough voice, shoulders hunched. "If I thought I could get through the season and not ruin us, I would."

Jack reaches for Bitty's hand and Bitty let's him take it, some part of him aware this may be the last time he gets this, even though most of him is still dragging its feet at the idea of saying goodbye to the man he's falling in love with.

“I want to be in a place where  _ this _ is the thing that grounds me." Jack squeezes his hand then speaks his inconvenient truth. "I’m not there yet.”

Bitty's hands shake. Jack must be able to feel it. He knows that this is the moment to fight, argue, convince Jack he's wrong. He understands it, his brain spells it out for him once, then again when nothing happens.

Nothing continues to happen but the shaking in Bitty's hands. His throat is swollen. It's hard enough to breathe, let alone speak.

Jack's expression doesn't change as he pulls his hand from Bitty's. Bitty knows because his body had locked up with his eyes unblinking and fixed right on Jack.

Jack pushes his chair back and Bitty at least manages to whisper his name, but Jack doesn't turn back and Bitty lets him walk away, brain shouting ineffectually at him.

His body feels heavy and his gaze is disconcertingly blurry until a tear rolls down his cheek and he realises he's crying. He brushes it away and hopes no one noticed. Then he cries some more.

He and Jack had been going so well. Bitty felt like they'd been together for a lifetime, he was so comfortable being with Jack; settled with himself and his emotions. They've been —they  _ were _ together for four months. Obviously, that wasn't enough time for Jack to sink as deep into their relationship as Bitty had. To consider it something to hold on to when things got harder, not let go of.

Bitty emits a keening noise and a passing waiter gives him a strange look. He pushes the chair back roughly, body not completely back under his control, but he can't sit in the café forever.

-

Lardo opens the door, notices his expression and immediately wraps him in a hug.

"Oh my god. Bitty. What happened?"

Bitty's crying again, leaning heavily into Lardo's body. It takes him a while to get his mouth to open.

"Jack broke up with me."

"What?" Lardo exclaims with total, genuine surprise, sounding as blindsided as Bitty had been. "Come on. Through to the couch."

Lardo keeps an arm around Bitty as she guides him to the living room and onto the couch, Bitty finally giving in to the ugly, sobbing kind of crying that he wasn't doing at the café as the reality of what just happened comes over him.

Lardo puts a tissue box beside Bitty. "I'll be back in a minute," she announces.

She returns carrying a baking tray heavy with food and drink. She unloads ice cream and cookies and chips and chocolate and wine. "Wasn't sure what the vibe was so I've got everything."

Bitty goes straight for the packet of cookies. Sub-par baked goods for his sub-par feelings. The taste is fake as anything but it feels appropriate for the moment.

"He broke up with me," he speaks while crying still. "He broke up with me."

Lardo sits right against Bitty on the couch and wraps her arms around him, holding him tight and letting him cry himself out until there's nothing left but the emptiness of his heartbreak.

-

Bitty falls asleep on Lardo's couch and wakes up the next day with a crying-induced hangover; stuffy head and dry throat. He starts making flapjacks by rote before remembering that this is the recipe he told Jack about when they first met, that Jack came to the library to find the recipe book for. Damn his subconscious.

He can't bear to throw the food away so he's reminded of Jack with every stir and every flip. Jack's laugh. Jack driving him home. Jack teasing him for wearing a scarf when he was in a t-shirt. Jack nervous to meet his friends. Jack carrying him from the couch to his bed. Jack, Jack, Jack.

Thankfully, Lardo has a free day and Shitty agreed to cover for him at work, so Bitty spends time with her, doing stupid messy crafts that he's terrible at to keep his mind off Jack. He leaves reluctantly before dinner to the emptiness of his own place and sits quietly on the couch, replaying scenes from the past few months in a depressing montage that causes the tears to return.

He forces himself to eat something then puts on headphones and gets into bed, crossing his fingers that listening to a podcast will get Jack off his mind before he falls asleep.

Lardo had the foresight to change his phone background to a picture of a duck. It saves Bitty at least ten minutes of staring at the picture of him and Jack from their trivia night, wondering if he's been imagining Jack's look of love the whole time. He makes the podcast loud enough to annoy. He's not ready for whatever his dreams are going to try and reveal to him about his own feelings.


	4. This He Said To Me

The one thing Bitty is grateful for is that he submitted his job application before it all happened. He's back into his funk and getting the phone call for an interview is the bright light that keeps him going through the post-break up week. His phone keeps pinging with alerts from the Falconers Twitter account, so even without watching any games, Bitty knows they're on a winning streak and seem to be heading straight for the final round. He can't bring himself to unsubscribe but the payoff is sporadic needles of pain to his chest when Jack’s name or face shows up on the feed. Maybe if Jack looked the pinnacle of health, Bitty could tell himself that Jack made the right decision. But the pictures on Bitty's Twitter tell a different story, one where Jack's losing weight and sleep to the game he loves. The bags under his eyes rival Bitty's.

Forcing himself to bed early the night before his job interview is ineffective and Bitty breaks out the concealer in the morning to try and hide the purple on his skin. Knowing Shruti and Sharon already is marginally useful for dampening his nerves, but as he pushes thoughts of Jack from his mind to focus on the next hour, it hits like a cement truck that he’s about to interview for his dream job. His emotions turn into a kaleidoscope of happiness and hope and nerves and worry and doubt and enthusiasm.

Shitty agrees to drive him to the interview so he doesn’t have to think about buses, but they spend the drive in silence with Bitty going through his flashcards of points he wants to bring up. He remembers the feeling he had before his interview for his current job, the usual nervousness that tries to convince you that you need to go to the bathroom even though you've just been. Today is different. He catches his reflection smiling in the front window and realises that through his eddy of emotions, what he’s feeling the most is excitement. He's going to walk in today for an interview for his dream job. He's been preparing for this for longer than he wants to admit. He's knows he's ready.

—

Shitty meets Bitty outside Annie's, post interview, with a roll of mass-produced cookies in one hand and a giant iced coffee in the other.

Shitty holds both up. "How was it?"

Bitty lifts a finger, trying to milk the moment, but he can already feel the smile pushing across his face. He points at the iced coffee.

Shitty laughs. "Ay, awesome! Knew it would go well."

Bitty laughs, accepting the drink Shitty holds out. "That makes one of us."

"No, come on. Your dream job!" Shitty slings an arm across his shoulders and walks them off toward wherever he parked the car. "I know you've been thinking like the manager of that place already. I'm sure they loved everything you said."

Bitty nods, recalling the on the spot feedback he'd gotten, all very positive. It was the least formal interview he'd ever participated in. He wonders if it was that way with all the applicants or whether it helped that he's a regular at Annie's events and on good terms with Shruti and Sharon. He feels light and bubbly, something he hasn’t felt in weeks.

Bitty beams into his iced coffee. "I think they really did. Shruti seemed really on board with my ideas for integrating the food and the events more."

"Of course your ideas were about the food." Shitty ruffles Bitty's hair which he only lets him do because the interview is over. He spent a lot of time on it this morning.

"So when are you going to hear back from them?" Shitty asks.

"They'll call by the end of this week and let me know if they want me for a second interview."

Shitty hugs Bitty from the side as they walk and the iced coffee almost tips over onto the sidewalk. Bitty can't help but laugh at Shitty's obvious enthusiasm.

"Ah, you'll get the call. 'Course you will."

"Don't jinx it!" Bitty reprimands Shitty, elbowing him in the side. He doesn't really mean it, he's feeling extremely positive. For once in his professional life, he didn't walk out of a job interview with regrets.

Actually, that's a little bit of a lie. He has one...it’s not a regret, but a thought that bursts the bubble of his mood.

Shitty pulls the drink from Bitty's lax hand.

"Where'd you go? Remembering something embarrassing you did during the interview?"

Bitty shakes his head and lets Shitty help himself to his drink.

"You know, the second I walked out of the office, I was so happy I forgot for a second that me and Jack broke up," Bitty hears himself confess without making the conscious decision to do so. "My first though was, 'I need to call Jack and tell him how it went'." He crosses his arms over his chest, staring ahead down the street. “It's been three weeks, Shitty. I’m still thinking about him every day."

Bitty doesn't look to Shitty for an answer. They continue down the street in silence, Shitty slowing down to match Bitty's pace. The sun hits Bitty's face but the warmth doesn't reach like it did a minute ago.

They make it all the way to the car before Shitty says anything.

"I'm going to be very real for the next few minutes. Are you open to it?"

Bitty knows from experience that means Shitty's going to say something he doesn't think Bitty wants to hear. He also knows from experience that it's going to give him a better perspective of his situation.

"Yeah. Let me hear it."

The car sits idle, Shitty having never turned the engine on. Shitty rests a wrist over the steering wheel and turns to look at Bitty.

“Did you ever consider it like Jack didn’t break up with you? It’s more like he made a massive decision  _ for _ you?”

Bitty blinks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I've been thinking about your situation and I think you  _ do _ need to talk to Jack.”

“I don’t need to talk to him," Bitty lies to Shitty's face. "Nor do I want to."

It feels wrong saying it.

“Okay, well we know that last part is a lie," Shitty calls him out. "I see you staring at his name in your contact list when you’re meant to be answering work emails. But I digress. Bro." Shitty reaches to put a hand on Bitty's shoulder and levels Bitty with his most serious look. "You’ve got to talk to him.”

Bitty doesn't see the part where he's 'got to' talk. All he knows is that he misses Jack's voice on his phone. But 'want' and 'need' and 'got to' are different things.

“There’s nothing more to say," Bitty tells Shitty. "He made it clear what he wanted.”

“Yeah, Bitty.  _ That’s my point _ . He made it clear what  _ he  _ wanted. The way you described it, it was all about his needs and concerns in the situation, and like, I’m not saying they’re not valid—everyone’s feelings are valid—I’m saying when did  _ you _ say what  _ you _ wanted?”

Bitty has no defence for the accusation and Shitty knows it. It's one of the things he'd told Shitty and Lardo after the break up, how his body had locked up in shock and he couldn't do anything, even though he'd wanted to; wanted to call Jack back, tell him Bitty didn't care, that this relationship was worth going through whatever was to come.

Bitty pushes a hand through his hair.

"It sounds like he was scared of things falling apart,” Shitty says, “so he bailed before it could get to that point. Didn't he say something like, I want you to —It was something about grounding?"

Bitty hears the words in Jack's voice _ , ‘I want this to be the thing that grounds me’.  _ He repeats it to Shitty.

Shitty nods and squeezes Bitty's shoulder. "It's the strangest, most backward break up I've ever heard about. As far as I can tell he was essentially saying ‘I care for you too much.’"

Bitty wants to push Shitty’s hand off him. He’s not meant to be saying things to Bitty that a part of Bitty has whispered to himself in the quiet solitude of his bedroom at night. He’s not meant to speak in the daylight the thoughts Bitty has been having and dismissing ruthlessly because if he acknowledges them it means he and Jack could still be together if he’d only done something that day.

“One last thing, then I’ll let the conversation go,” Shitty says. “Jack loved you, Bitty. The way he used to look at you? I’m certain he’s been thinking about you every day, too.”

Shitty squeezes Bitty’s shoulder before pulling his hand back and starting the engine. As the streets pass, Bitty brings up the familiar film reel of that day in the café, tries to watch it through the lens Shitty has been looking through. He runs the dialogue over in his head. He's incredibly efficient at that now.

In his mind’s eyes, Bitty sees Jack reach for his hand, hears him say, ‘If I thought I could get through the season and not ruin us, I would’, and ‘I want to be in a place where  _ this _ is the thing that grounds me’ and ‘my anxiety will be worse’. He sees the tension in Jack's shoulders, the purple beneath his eyes. He goes back further and runs the night Jack told him about his dreams, hears every sentence starting with an ‘I’. He pushes back further, further than he normally goes, and recalls Jack saying, ‘that’s anxiety for you’.

He goes back and forth and tries to see what Shitty sees and not dismiss the voice in his head like he has the past few weeks. It's easy because Shitty is right. A part of Bitty already knew it, but he’s finally ready to listen. He needs to talk to Jack.

-

Bitty still hasn’t gotten rid of his Falconers alerts. He waits until he knows Jack is out of state before he calls. It gives him time to plan the things he wants to say, what he needs Jack to hear. All the moving on, the giving time to wedding planning, applying for the position at Annie's, all of that when he wasn't even ready to move on. Admitting it to himself is cathartic. He doesn't want to let Jack go. Not when he hasn't given himself the chance to fight for them.

Bitty puts aside time to call Jack on Wednesday night, but his plans are derailed during breakfast that morning when Jack calls him.

Bitty almost lets it ring out, sure his mind is playing tricks on him, but when he answers with a tentative ‘hello’, emotions quivering between hopeful and scared, it’s Jack’s familiar baritone that comes through the line.

“Eric. Thank you for answering. I know you didn’t have to.”

“Why are you calling?” Bitty asks, voice thin and shaky as his body reacts to hearing Jack for the first time in three weeks.

"I need to apologise. I want us to talk again. I want to give us another chance.” Jack says it with such surety that Bitty knows he must have written a list before calling.

“But, but…” Bitty stammers, trying to comprehend that what is happening is real, and not a dream brought on by his conversation with Shitty. Jack  _ is _ calling him. Jack  _ wants _ to talk. Jack  _ wants _ to get back together.

"I’ve been talking to my therapist about what’s been happening,” Jack tells Bitty openly. “I know now that my anxiety and our relationship being new and the playoffs put me into an anxiety spiral. The break-up was me reacting without thinking about you.”

“Every reason you gave me that day was about you," Bitty agrees, still floored by Jack’s call, trying to keep the accusation from his tone when Jack has taken the step to call him.

“I know. I’m not happy about that.” Jack tells Bitty. “I know we spoke a little about my anxiety, and I should have shared with you what was going on with me. I was just so worried I’d ruin things. That I wouldn't be present enough.”

“You’ve told me this before,” Bitty points out as Jack repeats the words he used when he broke up with Bitty.

“I know. I’m telling you again not so you’ll excuse what I did, but so you understand where it came from. I got to a point where I told myself breaking-up would benefit both of us.”

Bitty frowns. “I’ve been miserable for three weeks, Jack.” Bitty knows he’s tapping into that part inside him that’s hardened since their break up.

“And I caused that, some of it, at least. And I’m sorry.” It’s the first actual apology since Jack started the call. Hearing it brings mixed feelings up. Bitty’s want to accept Jack’s apology, but he knows that before he does, they need to talk properly about what’s gone on.

“Bits?” Jack checks after Bitty remains silent while he tries to pinpoint what he’s feeling.

“I’m here. I’m processing.” Bitty shuts his eyes and drops his head into his palm, trying to center his thoughts. “I can’t…I feel like I had this exact conversation with myself just the other day. You know what I was going to do tonight?” Bitty asks Jack.

“No.”

“I was going to call you and tell you that breaking up with me for the reasons you gave me was confusing and shitty. That if you cared about me as much as you were saying  _ as we were breaking up _ then you wouldn’t have broken up with me. That we would still be together.”

Jack is silent though his breathing is present and heavy.

“I was going to say,” Bitty continues, lifting his head and crossing his arm over his chest instead. There’s a deep well of misery and missing Jack that he continues to tap into. “I was going to say that neither or us know if you would have been the things you feared because you ran away. I was going to tell you how your fears were valid, but you made a massive decision for the both of us. I was going to tell you that I wanted the chance to fight for us.”

Bitty takes a deep breath and drops his shoulders, which had tightened with tension during his rant.

“It is so, so surreal,” Bitty says softly, shaking his head, “to have you call me to say the same thing.”

“Bits, I want to fight for us too,” Jack replies immediately with some desperation. “You are the best thing. I love being with you. I got worried and scared and I ran away instead of letting us get through it together. I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”

Bitty presses the phone tight to his ear, screwing his eyes shut. “What exactly are you asking for?” Bitty breathes out.

"A promise that after the season's over, we’ll talk about us." Bitty’s stomach flips over. “You deserve better than what I did, and I know it may be too late, but I’ve been thinking about you every day, hoping you don’t want to give us up.”

Bitty takes a deep breath. It’s shaky. “I'm not ready to give us up,” Bitty confesses. “I think about you every day too.”

Bitty hears Jack’s harsh exhale. “Can I call you after playoffs? Can we talk about getting back together?”

“Yes, Jack. You can call me.”

-

Bitty moves on from moving on which some might call going backwards. Bitty would vehemently disagree with those people. Jack texts the morning after they talked with a brief apology for his behaviour again and a request for them to continue texting through the remainder of the playoffs. Bitty agrees, letting Jack take the lead on how often, making sure to keep his replies within the bounds of friendship. It doesn’t return to the daily back-and-forth messaging of when they were dating, but every other day, Jack will message with an update on the playoffs and on one occasion with a reflection on something he’d discussed with his therapist.

Bitty is making a practice rehearsal dinner cake when his phone rings a few afternoons later. His fingers are covered in sticky caramel icing and by the time he's washed them the phone has gone silent. He returns to the cake, finishing spreading the buttercream over the two layers. He steps back, tilting his head to try and visualise it with the other decorations.

It's almost an hour later that Bitty gets around to listening to the voicemail.

"Hi Eric. This is Sharon. I'm calling about your application for the assistant manager position at Annie's. If you could call me back when you get a chance, I have some exciting news."

Bitty's breath catches when he hears that and he does an excited shuffle on the spot. He calls back straight away before getting even further ahead of himself.

"Hello. Sharon speaking."

"Hi. Sharon. This is Eric." He clears his throat and tries to sound less like a prepubescent boy. Who knew excitement could make his voice go so high. "I got your message about the assistant manager job?"

"Thanks for getting back so soon. As I said, exciting news. We'd like to offer you the position."

Bitty literally jumps with joy. He hopes that's not audible.

"Are you still interested?"

Bitty beams. His dream job  _ and _ Jack and he are going to talk about getting back together after playoffs. Fate is back on his side.

"Yes, yes. I certainly am," Bitty tells her.

-

Bitty waits until he's signed his new contract before submitting his resignation. It's one of the happier days of his past year. Shitty throws him a "retirement" party which Bitty let's happen because he's joyous enough that it sounds fun and not inappropriate. He slips away halfway through the party into a spare room and pulls out this phone. His fingers itch with the need to call Jack and tell him what's happened. Jack was the one who kicked this all off, in a way, telling Bitty he should get serious about going after the job he wanted. Not that he had any power over the actual job becoming available. Still. It feels like something Bitty should tell him. If they were still together properly, and not at the strange re-starting a friendship stage, Jack would have been Bitty's first call, before Shitty, before his parents.

Bitty opens their text chain and scrolls through them for a minute, letting the urge to call Jack fade. Jack's already promised they'll talk after playoffs. The final round of games starts tomorrow so it'll be sooner rather than later that Bitty will see him in person. Bitty can wait to tell him then.

The Falconers go all the way to game seven for the Cup. Jack texts only a couple of times during. Still, Bitty's feeling good enough about where he and Jack are at that he agrees to watch the game with Lardo and Shitty at their place. The Falconers lose and Bitty knows it's going to hit Jack hard. He has to sit on his hands so he doesn't text, knowing he won’t be able to keep his text totally platonic. The knowledge that playoffs are finally over and Jack is going to call him any day now helps quash the urge.

Two days go by without a call from Jack. Fears fester without even a text from Jack to placate him, but Bitty thinks back to their phone call and knows that Jack was honest when he said he wanted to talk to Bitty, but also just as honest when he said his anxiety was always going to be there.

He's locking up Annie's three days after the cup final when he hears from Jack. He turns the lock in the door, checks the handle to be sure, then heads to the bus stop only to see someone watching him from a few paces away. He freezes. He'd recognise the shoulders anywhere.

Jack.

He's wearing the same leather jacket that he did to their first date, hands in the pockets.

It's like sound goes negative for a moment. Bitty can actually hear the silence. It's disconcerting. Not as disconcerting as seeing Jack in the flesh with none of the promised forewarning.

Bitty doesn't know what to say, how he should treat Jack. When he says 'hello' should it mean 'I missed you' or 'why didn’t you call'.

Jack speaks first. "Hi, Eric."

Bitty doesn't know what it sounds like beyond awkward.

"Hey, Jack."

The few feet between them remains.

“Sorry about the Cup match,” Bitty offers when the sound of silence starts to overwhelm. He hasn't moved since seeing Jack but his heart pounds like he's run up ten flights of stairs.

“You watched?” Jack asks. Bitty hears the surprise.

Bitty nods. “Of course.” He doesn't tell Jack that he was following every other game too. “You played well.”

Jack frowns, still uneasy with compliments it seems. “My wrist was sprained for the last two games and I -”

“You played well,” Bitty repeats.

Jack clears his throat. “Right. Right. Thank you.”

Bitty toys with the keys in his hand, watching Jack.

“I, uh,” Jack starts, removing his hands from his pockets. “Congratulations.”

Bitty tilts his head, not sure what Jack means. Jack gestures toward Annie's.

“Oh. Thanks, Jack." Bitty wonders how he found out, since he never texted. Has he been keeping up with Bitty's Instagram? "Only a few weeks but I'm really enjoying it.”

Silence falls again. Bitty closes his fingers around the key set to quiet them.

“You weren't at the library,” Jack says loud and abrupt into the quiet of the night, then continues in soundbite sentences. “I made those flapjacks. The Margaret Fulton ones. You were right. They're really good.”

“I'm glad you liked them.” Bitty frowns at Jack, then asks the question he’s been holding in his mind since turning and seeing Jack on the sidewalk. “I thought you were going to call me?”

Jack sighs. “I'm sorry. I didn’t-” Jack cuts off. The way Jack's looking at Bitty reminds Bitty of quiet mornings in Jack's apartment; emotions laid bare.

Jack lifts his hand toward Bitty, though they're still far apart. “I forgot the way your hair curls.”

Bitty's eyes widen and his gut twists. “Jack,” he says, voice low. “Why didn't you call?”

“I didn't want to talk about getting back together over a phone call.”

Bitty’s palms tingle. Hearing the words in real life makes the hope in him far more palpable.

“I need to do this face to face. It’s easier for me when I can see your reactions. And if you say yes, I want-” Jack cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath.

“You want?” Bitty whispers, heart flipping.

“I’ve missed kissing you.”

“ _ Jack _ .”

Jack squares his shoulders. "I've thought about this. You and me. I told you before that I wanted you to be my anchor. To ground me, lift me up, support me.”

Bitty's breathing becomes shallow. “You said you weren't there yet,” Bitty reminds Jack, not questioning the contradictions of supposedly being able to ground Jack and lift him up.

“I didn't think I was." Jack shakes his head and takes a step closer to Bitty. "But I was lying to myself. You were all those things to me this past month. Even when we weren't together. But I wasn't in the right place to start us up again."

Bitty feels like a broken record as he says Jack's name again.

Jack closes the distance between them. They stand toe to toe without touching. Bitty has to tilt his head back. It’s just like the night Jack officially asked him out, though so much has changed.

"When you called me, I thought I was imagining your name on my screen,” Bitty tells Jack quietly, “that I was in another of my dreams.”

“You’re not dreaming. I’m here. I’m sorry it took so long.”

Bitty swallows roughly, looking up into Jack's eyes. God he's missed them. It's dark on the street but the blue shines clear in Bitty's mind.

“And now?” Bitty whispers, hope still throbbing inside him.

Jack smiles, a small upturn of his lips. "Now I'm ready. Now I'm just a boy standing in front of a boy-”

“You’re quoting Notting Hill at me?” Bitty interrupts, a surprised smile creeping onto his face as he remembers watching it with Jack those few months ago.

Jack drops his chin to his chest for a second. “I, uh, couldn't think of a nice way to say how I wanted to say what I want.”

Bitty lifts a hand up and hovers it over Jack's chest. Jack leans in and Bitty can feel the thump of Jack’s heart beneath his palm. Bitty sucks in a breath.

“That doesn’t matter to me, Jack. The simple truth is fine.”

Jack nods, his expression becoming serious. “I want to date you again. I want you by my side through everything.”

Bitty's breath catches audibly and he stops breathing. For all Jack doesn't think he's good with words, the blunt honesty he possesses has always shot straight through to Bitty's heart. It does again now, starting a rapid  _ thumpthump _ in Bitty's chest.

"I want to be by your side," Bitty repeats Jack's words. "Through everything."

Jack smiles like the sun coming out.

Bitty knows there's a lot for them to talk through still; promises to make, fears to address, apologies to say and accept. That can come later. For now there's this; Jack's hands on his hips, Bitty's hands on Jack's chest, Jack's lips soft and sure and familiar against Bitty's own.

**EPILOGUE: LOVED IN RETURN**

Jack during the offseason is a force to be reckoned with. It seems like every stray romantic thought Jack had during their separation is put into action, days of flowers and dates and good food and bad rom-coms and meeting the friends again.

Bitty re-invites Jack to Lardo and Shitty's wedding and Jack books them into a ballroom dancing class in preparation, even though Bitty assures him that's not the kind of music they’ll have at their wedding. He will admit it's been one of his favourite dates so far.

The ceremony is during the day in a gorgeous National Park with views down to the water. The sun shines and Bitty cries, and from his place beside Shitty at the front he hears Jack laugh every time the officiant stumbles over Shitty's name.

There are a few speeches, including one from Bitty that Jack must have heard at least ten times already, and then a buffet of food and dancing with a live band that have gigged at Annie's before that Lardo loves.

The dancing spills out onto the deck of the reception hall, and Jack leads with an unfair amount of grace for all the pounds of muscle he carries even in the off season.

“Do you know what this reminds me of?” Jack asks as they sway out on the deck while the sun sets over the water.

Bitty pulls his head off Jack’s shoulder to look at him. “No. What?”

Jack smiles down at him. “The first time we met.”

“Really?”

Bitty’s memories of that night are crystal clear and he can’t see much similarity between the two costume-clad strangers kissing on the dancefloor like teenagers, and the people he and Jack are tonight.

“Yeah.” Jack spins Bitty around in a waltz step and pulls him back in. “Sure, the mood is a little different, but this. Here. You in my arms.” Jack pulls Bitty even closer so they’re chest to chest. “It feels like that night.”

Warmth blossoms and Bitty’s cheeks lift with an unstoppable smile.

He tilts his head up to Jack. “I love you,” he tells Jack with all the warmth he can muster.

“I love you too,” Jack whispers back, before leaning down the rest of the distance to join their lips together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the mods for organising and thanks to _you_ for reading! It's half the reason I write these things; to share it with people who are as in love with the characters of OMGCP as I am.
> 
> It may take me a while, but I do try and respond to all comments :)
> 
> Support [the fic](https://omgcpbigbang2019.tumblr.com/post/189109796562/the-greatest-thing) and [the art](https://jitterbit.tumblr.com/post/189104213431/these-are-my-pictures-for-the-check-please-big#notes) on tumblr
> 
> If you enjoyed this, you can read my other Zimbits Bang fics;  
[Sounds Like Something That I Need to Feel (2017) - NHL!Jack and PhonelineSexWorker!Bitty [explicit]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12681105/chapters/28912026)  
[Just Another Hour or Two (2018) - non-hockey, different first meeting, college AU [teen & up]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16514054)  
[The Line Between (2019 Reverse Bang) - secret agents AU [mature]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964858)


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